Musing

My oculi is filmier all over.
It conduces my intuition sober.

Sometimes it suffuses varia's tear.
Cornua's retention becomes Soggier.

I cogitate that what's my whatness?
Why I'm engrossed in tenderness?

Aye menace chastises me to the yea and nay.
I am eluding from ebulliency day by day.

It submerged me into soothing winter.
So I ponder rimy about creation semper.

Hoc milieu will suffice upto entire extinction.
After curtains what will be my Condition?